If I Should Fall From Grace With God
by hugglesbunny
Summary: Bash Slash, angst, prank wars, fulton is in love with portman, portman is questionable...
1. Beginning of the End

Ever since I saw him come skating across the ice, playing air guitar like he didn't have a care in the world, I knew something was changing...

I have lusted after him since then, even if I didn't realize it was lust. I thought I just wanted to be his friend. Now we're best friends and I still feel... empty, unfulfilled, alot of pretty meaningless words.

Then one day I knew. I saw him standing there about to step onto the ice, and for one moment he looked so unsure, so alone my heart skipped a beat. I knew I was the only one who could understand what he was feeling. I wanted nothing more than to be the reason he lost that sad look. But of course a second later the look was gone, replaced by the carefree face he so often wore. And watching him skate around gracefully, i knew it went far beyond friendship. This was love...

And I was so fucked.

disclaimer:: the mighty ducks do not belong to me.. if they did they would not be fit for a disney movie.

this is the beginning of a new story im no writing with my friend Kathy. feel free to tell me what you loved hated want removed immediately etc. any suggestions i would also love to hear.


	2. Happy Torture?

I'm sitting in the locker room after the second period of the Varsity game. We are basically getting our asses handed to us on a gold plate. One order of roast Duck. I can't protect them all. Varsity is too big, and there's only one me. Maybe if I had Portman. But no, I never had Portman.

"Dean Portman has been awarded..."

I lose the rest of what he's saying as I jump up to see him. The cocky grin on his face, like he he'd never left us gives me a squeezed feeling in my heart. The rest of the break passes in a daze and as I hit the ice again I look next to me realizing how natural it feels to see him right there grinning and yelling at the crowd. It's like the first two periods never happened. We skate faster, hit harder, shoot better. But when we win, it isn't the end of a great story, it's the beginning of a better one. For me anyway.

The day after the game I follow him to the main office so he can get a room. The secretary looks up and gives Portman the look.

"Yes, Mr. Portman, Mrs. Haver has been waiting for you."

I vaguely recognize the name. I was supposed to see her after a bit of difficulty I'd had with my roommate.

We walk into a small office to the right and a short red-headed lady looks up and smiles.

"Ahh, Mr. Portman" she gives me a strange look " _and_ Mr. Reed?"

Portman grins easily and asks "so what yuppy do you have me stuck with?"

"Well Mr. Portman, it seems your companion Mr. Reed has an available space."

Portman looks at me and I shrug

"Dude didn't like Nirvana."

Mrs. Haver glared at me sharply and muttered, "Nirvana at 3 in the morning."

Portman chuckled and I attempt to look chagrined but fail miserably.

"I believe your roommate began sleeping in the library to avoid you, am I correct Mr. Reed?"

I mutter something about it being possible and contemplate the fact that they may force me to sleep in the same room as him. She continues on about our schedules being similar and us hopefully not driving each other insane but I'm not listening.

The Goodwill Games was bad enough with everybody else in the same dorm, but just the two of us alone. Do they live to torture me? I'm snapped out of my thoughts as Portman stands and thanks Mrs. Haver. As we exit the building Portman stops to get his schedule and I stare off into space.

Twenty minutes later we leave the main office, Portman carrying a packet of introductory crap in one hand and a key to my dorm in the other. As if I don't lose enough sleep as it is.

The rest of the day is fairly uneventful, what with me dreading nighttime and Portman trying to

figure out where his classes are and other boring stuff like that. Thankfully we have English, Chemistry, and Shop together. I never go to History anyway and we play Hockey for PE. This could make the school year a lot better.

Yay, another chapter. I now have yet another co-author, my friend Leslie. Ummm,


	3. insert Happy Days theme song here

I love being a hockey player. Eden Hall, despite its austere academic front, doesn't care what we do as long as we win. And we do win. Which is why English is half over and Averman's drooling, I'm daydreaming and Portman's leaning so far back in his chair you could blow on him and he'd tip over. Not that I'd want to blow... never mind. I can hear Jimi Hendrix blasting from his headphones and I'm pretty sure he's starting to snore. I look up as Mr. K. launches into another speech about Animal Farm and I decide I'd better pay attention. So, right... Animals, on a farm.

I wake up when the bell rings 20 minutes later and Portman's standing next to me smirking.

"C'mon Sunshine, school's over. Let's get the hell out of here"

I favor him with my best sneer and grab my stuff.

"So Fult, you going to Murphy's tonight?"

I look at him and nearly trip over some girl sprawled out on the floor. "Why? What's at Murphy's?"

"Misfits dude. Horror punk rock. They've been around since the eighties. They're psycho. You busy tonight?"

I mentally run over my to do list. Lust, self-pity, dinner, sleepless nights. "Yeah, I've got homework."

He looks at me and starts laughing when he realizes I'm joking. "So you're coming."

"Yeah."

We pass through the front doors, wade through preppies making out and head towards the arena. We enter through the locker room and I grab my gear from my locker."Are we skating or full gear scrimmage?" I ask as I look over at him and resist the urge to stare as he pulls off his shirt.

"Skate laps, I wanna be in one piece for the show tonight." We both grin as we recall the last time we beat eachother up in one on one. He turns back to his gear bag and I realize OK, maybe I'm not resisting the urge to stare. He leaves to go put music on and I hurriedley finish dressing. I follow him out the door and onto the ice as the srains of The Clash come out of the speakers. Silently we start around the ice, settling into an even rhythm. My breathing evens and I settle into that peaceful mood I can only get on the ice or on certain drugs.

Not that I do drugs.

At 6:45 we stop and head in, Portman to the showers, me to anywhere else. He gives me an odd look as I mumble my excuses, slip on a pair of rollerblades and head for Kenny and Russ's dorm. I figure I'll hang out with them to avoid having to shower with him (as lovely as that would be) and then I can meet up with him at Murphy's.

I make my way through the door to my, excuse me _our_ dorm and call out "Portman, dude, you here?" After dropping my keys on the nightstand and shaking my head at the still unfamiliar stack of luggage piled in the corner I turn towards the table and notice the piece of paper.

Fulton

Left for Murpy's already. Show starts at 10. You got to come.

And can I say no? Of course not. So I grab a quick shower and at 9:27 I leave the room and head out into the hall.I come to a quick halt when I realize my ex-roommate is walking around patrolling the halls looking for, well, people like me. . I wait for him to turn the corner and then sneak behind him and drop out the only window that isn't a twenty foot drop. I land effortlessly and after turning around and giving my ex roommate a mock salute, I head toward the main street.

:  
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ok ok i swear i have the second part of this written and it finally contains slash... very mild in the beginning i must admit but we will get there. i swear i finally have time to work on this. assuming i still have ANYONE reading this... hopeful grin ... no ...? maybe ill just take my slash and go read it by myself... just kidding! bunny


	4. Us and Them

ok... i figured id start this kinda tame... so its beginning...

itsasledgehammer : I am fully aware that no one ever updates and i am trying so hard to do it at least once a week but i have finals so... after school stops messing up the important things (like bash slash) i will be more prompt... I swear

30 minutes later I'm walking towards the front door of Murphy's. I bum a cigarette off of some pseudo-punk slouching outside and head into the foyer type thing. I flash my fake id at the bouncer,shoot him a glare as he feels me up and move inside.

As I enter the tiny pub I look around and immediately spot Portman. He's leaned up against the bar drinking something from a red plastic cup. He looks up as soon as I enter the room and smiles as I weave my way through the crowded room. He turns toward me as I sit down and grab a drink and asks, "You have any problems getting in?"

"Not really. The bouncer at the front door checked me for drugs, weapons and tesicular cancer." I idly glance at my fake id and look at Portman. "This says I'm 5' 7", 172 pounds..."

He smirks. "Yeah, maybe when you were 10."

"Maybe I should get a new one."

"Hey. That says you're 22, that's all that matters in my book."

"True, I..." at that point the opening band starts and I'm saved from whatever idiotic thing I was going to say and eventually we're lost in a haze of marijuana smoke.

Portman's POV

The band comes on and the entire place is soon a mix of smoke and loud music. After the opening band leaves the stage the Misfits come on and we move towards the front of the stage. As they launch into a cover of Supercalafragalisticexpialadocious the crowd starts yelling and Fulton looks delighted.

We head out to a back alley and light a joint and go back inside. The lights have been turned off now and all you can see is a cloud of smoke. I look up towards the stage and marvel that the guitar player can smoke, drink a beer, sing and play guitar at the same time. These guys are good. The rest of the concert passes in a blur and before I know it the masses of people are pushing us towards the exit.

We go out back to the alley and light up and as were huddled together against the cold night air I sense a shift in his thinking. He seems so innocent right then, despite the joint between his lips and the knife he's casually twirling in his fingers. He looks at me and starts to say something and the next thing I know I have him pinned against the alley wall kissing him like my life depends on it. My mind vaguely reminds me that this shouldn't be happening but I ignore it in favor of the voice telling me to keep going. He moans and I have to force myself not to molest him right then and there. I have no idea how he'll react, or what he's going to do when this is over. All I know is for whatever readon I don't want it to stop. I have a sudden desperate need to touch him and my fingers scramble at his shirt. He's so different from the girls, so solid. I feel him gasp as my fingers scrape his stomach and I know I should stop but I can't bring myself to tear myself away. I hear a clatter as his pocket knife hits the dirty alley floor and as I press in closer I feel it underneath my boot.

Fulton's POV

There's a solid thud as his weight pushes me against the wall. I feel the air leave my lungs, although that was probably due to the small fact that his tongue was in my mouth doing things I hadn't thought possible. He pulls at my shirt and I feel his nails rake up my stomach and bite back a gasp. Who knew pain could be so nice? He tastes like marijuana, vodka and peppermint, and I can see myself becoming addicted to that taste . I don't know what he;s thinking or why he's doing this, but I really don't care right now. My brain is solely focused on his hands on me and his body against mine, and I feel like I'm drowning.

Portman's POV

The first thing I notice when I wake up the next morning, before the pounding headache and me smelling like day-old weed, is the fact that Fulton is curled up in my arms.

How, you ask?

Not quite sure. But I don't know how he'll react, so I reluctantly get out of bed, reassure myself that it was only a friendly gesture and go to eat breakfast. As I step out of my room I see Charlie coming out of his room down the hall and nod in his direction. As he walks up to me he wrinkles his nose and I give him a questioning look.

"Damn Portman, sleep in a greenhouse last night?"

True, maybe a shower is a better option.

I decide to go skate some laps and then take a shower in the locker room.

Fulton's POV

When I wake up the next morning my head weighs a ton and I am having alot of trouble recalling last night. I roll over to see if Portman is in his bed still and hear the crinkle of paper underneath me. I pull out a note, realize it's from last night and everything comes flooding back to me.

_Shit, did that really happen? I did have alot to drink... It could have been a dream. _

That thought keeps replaying in my mind and I decide it would be wise not to mention it. I mean, what if I'm making it up and Portman freaks out? With that thought I haul myself out of bed and head for a much needed shower.


	5. Geek USA

Chapter 5:Geek USA 

Portman's POV

Coach looks impressed to see me skating laps early Saturday morning. Hopefully he won't get the wrong impression of me. Wouldn't want him expecting too much of me. Luckily he leaves me alone. I'm not too sure how I feel about this Coach Orion guy. Fulton doesn't like him too much, which makes it hard for me to be all 'Yay Coach Orion'. I get bored after about an hour and skate off the ice. After a quick shower I decide I'm really not ready to face Fulton yet so I head downtown to catch a movie.

Fultons POV

I walk into the bathroom and am greeted by a horiffying sight. There's a dead guy in our bathroom. Oh wait, that's me in the mirror. Shit I look horrible. Was I in a fight? I comtemplate the various bruises around my mouth as I turn on the shower. I pull off my shirt and pause as I glance in the mirror again. I have scratch marks running down my stomach. I know how I _wish _they got there.

Sometime during my shower I decide it was all a dream and I don't want to ruin out friendship by bringing it up. I feel slightly better as I step out of the shower and pull on a pair of boxers. I tug on a pair of black shorts and turn to look at my stomach once more in the mirror. The scratch marks are blood red compared to the white of my skin. I idly pick the scab off of the deepest one as I stare at myself. After a few seconds I pull on my favorite Chili Peppers shirt and throw my stuff on my bed. After putting on the first pair of shoes I find, I head for the door. As I walk out into the hallway I see Charlie go walking by and nod. He grins and asks, "have fun last night?"

"Yeah, what'd Portman tell you about it?"

"Nothing. He just came out earlier this morning smelling like a Peruvian garden. Very pretty..."

"Yeah, I can imagine. You heading down to lunch?"

"Uhh, sure. Coach left a note, game got moved an hour later. We don't have to be at the bus til 6."

"Ok, cool." We walk through the doors to the cafeteria and head towards the line. "What've you been up to?"

"I broke up with Linda... Crazy chick wanted me to 'get serious' about our relationship"

"What, she wanted you to stop making out for hours and actually talk?"

"No, like, promise rings, commitment, pick baby names serious"

I must have looked severly frightened because Charlie laughs and says "My reaction exactly."

I shake my head and the rest of lunch passes silently. We head back up towards the dorms discussing strategy for the game tonight, which basically consists of "Let's just be super good and kick ass, ok?" As we round the second floor I decide there's no way I'm doing homework right now and we decide to just hang until we have to report to the bus.

We walk into Charlie's room and I notice all his roommates stuff is gone. "Hey where'd that kid go, the chess geek?"

"Oh, they caught him and that chick with the retainer going at it in the AV room two days ago. His ass was gone before you could say 'banana' "

"Who knew the dude had it in him... Are they going to give you a new roommate or are you flying solo?"

"Who knows, who cares..." He flips on the stereo and puts in a cd, "Just means I can do whatever I want." I flop onto the vacant bed as the familiar sound of London Calling blasts out of his speakers.

I decide the best way to forget what I can't remember about last night is to get stoned. Yeah it's risky during the day in Charlie's dorm but the odds someone's going to be in the dorms on a Saturday afternoon are slim. I look at Charlie and raise my eyebrows and he gives me a questioning look. When he sees the evil smirk a minute later he grins and says "Damn Fulton, I'm not going to be able to skate tonight."

Portman's POV

I walk up the stairs towards our dorm room and pause as I hear the Red Hot Chili Peppers blasting from down the hall. The only person down there who has any music sense (besides me and Fulton of course) is Charlie, and the only person who would play it that loud is Fulton. I pass my door and head towards Captain Duck's room. I bang on the door and, not hearing anything, hit it harder. I hear a coughing sound then Charlie yells something that sounds like 'WHAT' but it also could have been 'FUCK'. I decide it's too bad if I'm not supposed to go in and throw the door open. Or at least I attempt to. It stops on the towel they have rolled up by the crack under the door, and I quickly push my way through before any more smoke seeps out.

I can tell they've been in here awhile. The ceiling is barely visible through the thick haze of smoke, and they both look like I could throw them out the window and they'd simply float away.

"How'd you know we were here?" Fulton looks at me questioningly and he looks like a kid caught doing something bad.

"I can hear the music a mile away."

Charlie looks amused and turns towards Fulton and pokes him on the foot. Fulton twitches and Chalie pokes him again. I honestly feel like I'm losing brain cells just watching the two of them. I glance at Fulton again and he doesn't show any signs of remembering what happened last night. Either that or he doesn't want to bring it up. I sigh and look at Charlie, who's staring at me. "I cannot... believe..." they both look sheepish, as if expecting a scolding (from me, of all people!) "you got high without me!" There's a moments silence and Charlie starts laughing.

"Have a seat my good friend."

* * *

Two hours later, Julie walks in to find Fulton hanging off the bed and Charlie asleep sitting up. I have been staring at Fulton for the last hour and when she walks in it startles me and I sit straight up. Thankfully one of us (not entirely sure who) had enough sense to open the windows so it is no longer foggy in the room, but Julie wrinkles her nose as she walks in.

"Well, I suppose it's better then smelling like dirty socks. Coach is pissed. If you're not on the bus in 20 minutes he's going to shit a brick." She pokes Charlie delicately and he snaps his head up and into the wall behind him. He groans and holds his head and Fulton sits up looking extremely disoriented.

"Oh god elephants are riverdancing on my head..."

"C'mon guys, we're going to be late. We don't have to change til we get to St. John's, just grab your stuff. I'll say I found you doing homework or something." She walks out the door looking entirely unsympathetic and we all stare after her. Fulton groans and gets off the bed, grabbing Charlies hockey stick and tossing it to him. In this dazed state we somehow make it downstairs and out to the bus area within 10 minutes and make some bullshit excuse to Coach who just nods and tells the bus driver to break laws. We drop onto the seats and Charlie promptly goes back to sleep.

im warning you right now, this is not going to have perfectly correct grammar. Generally it will, but I dont think two teenage boys are going to have wonderful speech so neither will this story. ex..." I dont need no school." ... The titles a smashing pumpkins song.


	6. Whatever Happened?

I'm silent the entire bus ride to St. John's. Portman's snoring loudly and Charlie is staring out the window with a single-mindedness that amazes me. It feels like it's been days before we finally pull up to the school, and I wake Portman as everyone else starts gathering their stuff. As we walk into the locker room and begin changing my high starts to wear off, leaving me grumpy and bored. As we skate onto the ice I become completely sober and I am starting to get pissed off. The big, scary enforcer from St. John's is eyeing me and I can feel him staring. This does not exactly help my mood. I turn my back on him and continue skating. All my confusion over last night, all my frustration with school and all my boredom from not being high anymore are coinciding and I can't wait for this game to start.

Finally the referee signals us to take our positions. The stands are filling up, students and local parents, and the noise level is rapidly rising. The whistle blows, the puck drops and there's movement. I move without thinking, blocking the guy moving for Charlie and slamming him into the boards. The enforcer comes up to slam me but I move and leave him to hit his teammate. I wave mockingly for a brief second then move to retrieve the puck and pass it to Tex. The first period continues in the same rapid fashion, ending with no score. We head back to the locker room, breathless but happy. Coach gives us the standard pep talk and I ignore him, my every thought on the next period.

As we hit the ice once more, the other enforcer, number 72, is still mean-mugging me. I can almost feel his eyes burning holes through the 44 on my back. The second period begins much the same as the first, the comfortable feeling of being on the ice starting to soothe my irritation, when it happens. I pass the puck to Averman, and several seconds after I've relinquished the puck he slams into me. I snap, dropping my hockey stick and punching him. It hits his face mask, snapping his head back and he's dazed for a moment before he too drops his stick, throws off his gloves and moves toward me. All my pent up emotion turns to rage and I have never been this glad for a punching bag. Then, I'm on top off him and he's swinging back and the next thing I know I'm practically lifted into the air by some unknown force. I swing blindly, and then hear Portman's voice telling me that if I fucking hit _him_, I'm fucking dead, so I stop. I calm down enough to hear the crowd yelling and cheering and a referee skates up and motions that I'm out of the game. I relax and skate off the ice without resistance, walking almost gratefully back into the locker room. I'm asleep on the bus when the rest of the team climbs back in. Coach Orion signals that we're going to have a nice long chat back at Eden Hall, and I shrug and go back to sleep. I awake twenty minutes later and find Portman staring at me oddly.

"Nice game, Fult."

"Shut up." And I turn my head and pretend to go back to sleep.

As soon as we get off the bus Coach calls me over. I follow him away from the bus and realize that we're going to Dean Buckley's office. Coach knocks and after a moment sticks his head in.

"Come in Coach Orion."

I zone out, not wanting to hear them discussing me. I lose myself looking around the office at the numerous sports trophies and cheesy posters, and jump when I hear Dean Buckley call my name.

"Yeah?"

"I'm afraid I have to suspend you, young man. It'll be for tomorrow only, unless you break any rules tomorrow. Your teachers will send your work to you tomorrow night and you are not to leave your room except for meals."

I mumble my acceptance and follow Coach out of the office. He gives me a disappointed look and shakes his head.

"Go to sleep Fulton. And don't let this happen again."

I walk slowly back to the dorms and let myself into our room. I don't see Portman, but it sounds like the shower's running and the bathroom door is closed. I drop onto the bed and pull my pillow over my head, groaning loudly into it. A minute later, the shower turns off and I can hear him moving around in the bathroom. The door opens and I stare into the darkness of my pillow, imagining what he looks like. Baggy black shorts over red plaid boxers, no shirt, hair wet and slightly curly. Suddenly the pillows pulled off my head and I don't need to imagine; he's standing over me.

"Shower's free."

"Thanks." I stand up, grab my towel and hop over his bed to get to the bathroom. Pausing halfway through the door, I glance to see him looking at me questioningly.

"I'm suspended tomorrow." My face is blank, unsure of what he'll say.

"We'll think of something to do whenever we wake up.

I stare at him for a moment then smile inwardly.

"Don't forget to turn off the alarm." He nods and dives for it, pushing random buttons until it beeps. I smile and shake my head as I close the door. I purposefully ignore my reflection as I drop my towel on the counter and pull off my shirt. The bathroom fills with steam as I undress fully and step under the steamy water. Sighing happily, I let the water slide over me and I decide I'm going to be in here until our entire floor is out of hot water.

I exit 47 minutes later, my skin pink and my fingers all pruny. I quickly put on black shorts and a grey sweatshirt, grab my towel and old clothes and open the door. Crossing over to my bed, I glance at the clock which now says its 5:32 in the afternoon. I look outside at the dark sky, then glance at Portman curiously, who shrugs.

"That thing's fucking complicated."

"It has two buttons and an on switch."

He shrugs again and grins. I shake my head once more and toss my clothes on top of his in the corner.

"What time is it really?"

He shrugs _again_ and I resist the urge to throw my wet towel at him.

"What time was it when you fucked up the clock?"

He shrugs and two seconds later my wet towel smacks him in his smug face. He topples over backward and I smile, lunging for the door. I'm out and halfway down the hall when I hear the door slam open. I glance back and see Portman skid into the hallway after me. He looks like an offended cat and I fight the urge to laugh.

"You getting food?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna grab some chips out of the vending machine, then hit the sack. I'm tired"

"Grab me something."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be back in a bit."

I am so sorry about the long wait. I completely understand if everyone has completely given up on me. I know how annoying it is to have an author just vanish off the face of the earth. My life has been hectic and I've moved three times in the last year and I was unpacking and found my notebooks, and now you all have another chapter. I promise I will keep this up, and I have another one for my other mighty ducks fic. I Promise!!! The title is a song by the Strokes...


	7. Interlude

I'm woken up the next morning to the most obnoxious sound. Not, surprisingly, Portman's snoring, but the alarm clock. I roll over and stare at it drowsily. I'm pretty sure it's not 11:47 at night, but apparently Portman didn't turn it off, just messed up the clock. Naturally Portman sleeps right through it, so I turn it off, roll Bck over and fall back asleep.

X D - short i know, but the next chapter is already written so it will be coming soon. Just wanted to let you know i'm still breathing


	8. Truth Is

A/N – so I realize I said that the st johns game took place on a Saturday, and fulton said he was suspended the next day, which would technically be Sunday. If any of you (the whole like, 2 readers I have left) noticed that, we are going to suspend reality and pretend the game took place on Sunday, because I don't feel like changing it. We've gone too far (to quote Harold and kumar)

OK, now we shall (somewhat) get Portman's view on the whole thing.

According to our clock, I woke up at 5: 45 in the morning. I know this is not the case because I never wake up at 5:45, even when I'm supposed to. I poke my head further out of the blankets and glance at the bed across the room. Fulton's still dead to the world, his blankets in a tangled mess around his feet, his shirt twisted up around his chest. Some of the scratches on his stomach are visible and there's a purple bruise on the side of his neck. The bruise must be from the St. John's fight, but the scratches… I'm sure I have a smirk on my face remembering where those are from. For the thousandth time, I wonder how drunk he was, if he remembers it, and if so, why doesn't he say anything? I've had the past couple of days to think about it and yeah, remember that 'friendly gesture' I mentioned? I've come to the conclusion that I want it to be… not so friendly, and that I am fully ok with what happened at Murphy's, but I have also had the same amount of time to realize that Fulton might _not_ be ok with what happened.

But he was kissing me back, right?

He was also drunk.

But being drunk doesn't make you do things you don't want to do, just stuff that you wouldn't do sober.

Even then, if he doesn't want to admit he has a thing for me (and c'mon, did you see my strip dance… who wouldn't) when he's sober, that's a problem anyway.

See? This is the argument that had been playing through my head for the last couple of days. It is enough to drive anyone crazy. I realize I'm still lying in bed, staring at him sleeping and this makes me feel vaguely stalkerish, so, I throw my covers off and chuck a towel into the bathroom. It's soon followed by a clean shirt and a pair of socks. I turn on the shower and wait until the bathroom is filled with steam before stripping down and climbing in to the tiny shower. As the hot water runs over my head and down my back, I groan loudly.

To be completely honest (something I rarely am, even with myself) I am not upset that it happened. I mean, I wasn't exactly planning it but now that it has, I'm ok with it. We were best friends, now I _may_ feel a bit more for him. I'm ready for the next step, whatever that may be. I knew we'd be friends since the moment he started yelling at me the day we met. Anybody who's willing to go toe to toe with me has some balls.

I groan again, and try to drown myself under the faucet. That is exactly the problem. He's got balls, literally and figuratively. The pervertedness of that thought gives me a little chuckle, but it's not enough to completely pull me out of the funk that I'm in. How am I supposed to bring that up in polite conversation? So yeah, nice weather we're having, and by the way, do you remember me molesting you in an alley, and if so, did you like it? My thoughts are interrupted by the sounds of Fulton waking up. I can hear his bed squeaking as he sits up, and it's followed by the sounds of him shuffling around the room. I wash my hair and turn off the water before drying myself off quickly. After putting on last night's shorts and my clean shirt, I brush my teeth and grab my shit. I fling the door open and grin at the sight of him bending over looking through our cd collection.

"Good morning, sunshine!" He grunts and I drop my stuff on my bed. "Where's the rise and shine, good morning, Portman I usually get in the morning."

He looks at me, wincing as his neck stretches too much. "I don't know. Why don't you go look for it?"

"What's wrong?"

He puts in a cd and hits the power button before moving back to his bed. "I hurt… EVERYWHERE."

I give him my best smile. "That's what you get for picking fights with the other children. You want me to kiss it better?" He turns an odd shade of red and mumbles something about feeling better after a shower. He grabs a towel and literally flees into the safety of the bathroom, leaving me to flop onto my bed, still smiling. He never used to react like that when I would play gay with him. He'd usually just laugh, or have some smart ass comment in return. After his twenty minute shower, the conclusion that I have come to is that he does remember what happened. Why else would he have blushed? Now all I have to figure out is why he didn't say anything.

I sigh. Yeah, that's all. With Fulton, if he doesn't want to tell you something, there is no getting it out of him. I glance up as he emerges from the bathroom, his skin pink and his hair damp, brushing his teeth.

"Wha ahh we doing ahday?"

I shrug. "You want to see what movies are playing?"

"I guesh…" He walks back into the bathroom and emerges a second later, minus the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. "You wanna skate or catch a bus?"

"Let's catch a bus. It's supposed to be hot today."

He nods and grabs a black bandana off of his dresser and sticks it in his pocket, followed by our dorm key and his wallet. I finally haul myself off my bed and grab my shit before throwing an arm around his shoulders and giving him a huge smile as I pull him toward the door. "C'mon sweetheart. Let's get gone."

A/N (number 2) I realize this is going slowly but I wanted to get a grasp on how they feel. I swear, things will start happening faster. I have regained some sort of momentum on this story and more will be coming on my other story once I sort out all the notes I left myself. The title is a song by Brother Ali. (If you like hip hop kinda stuff you should feinetely check him out)


End file.
